The Girl from the Forest
by Wings of Indigo
Summary: All Gillan was doing was visiting old freinds. But while he was riding, he discovered a girl in the forest- a girl with all the skills of a Ranger. So where did she come from? How did she learn the Ranger's secrets? Why does she live in the forest, when Redmont would happily take her in? And just who is this girl- a girl who calls herself Aspen?
1. Chapter 1

**Well, I love the Ranger's Apprentice series. However, I thought that it could have had more girls- and why were there no girl Rangers? I understand why there would be no girl knights, but if girls can be diplomats and rulers in their own right (Cassandra, for example) in Araulen, then it makes no sense why there wouldn't be girl rangers. It just seems to me that girls, on average, would be very good at learning the ranger skills. So, here's my whack at girl rangers. **

Gilan rode through the forest near Castle Redmont, happy to be near the end of his journey. It was barely autumn, and he reveled in the warmth it brought. In his own fief of Norgate, The days had become unpleasantly cold, and already snow dotted the ground several inches thick.

Here, however, the harvest had barely begun, and the touch of summer still lingered in the trees. Birds chirped calls to one another, as squirrels screeched, beginning their frantic quests for nuts. Gillan let himself relax- this was much better than trying to weather another hectic winter at Whitby.

Crowley had allowed his request for a brief vacation with Halt and Will, and as soon as his temporary replacement had arrived, Gilan had quickly-but thoroughly- briefed him, and left as fast as he could.

Blaze snorted at a kicked up red leaf, and Gilan chuckled.

"Very different from Whitby, isn't it?"

Blaze bobbed her head, snorting again in agreement. Then her head went up and her ears swiveled to the left. Gilan strained to hear what had caught his horse's attention- and relaxed again as he heard the far-off strains of a rough wooden flute, echoing under the trees.

Gillan chuckled again and patted Blaze's neck. "It's just a flute. Let's go. Halt and Will are waiting for us. And I'm sure they'll have something for you at the cabin."

Blaze's ears pointed at Gilan, and she picked up her walk to a trot, eager to get to the cabin and her dinner.

Far above the road, someone watched the forest. Lounging in the branches of an enormous oak, the slim figure was dressed in nondescript clothing- leggings, soft leather half-boots, loose shirt, and laced leather vest. A homespun hooded cloak of indeterminate color was tossed casually across a nearby branch.

Two horses cropped the sparse grass beneath the tree. One was slightly taller and rangy, a muscular and mature black mare who could have easily been from battlehorse lineage. The other was a young, almost pony sized buckskin colt.

The black mare had both a bridle and saddle, while the smaller buckskin only had on a halter and lead, which was tied to the cantle of the mare's saddle. Also slung across the saddle were a small bow, canteen, and a small quiver of arrows.

Aspen smiled down at the two equines from her perch in the tree as she laid aside her flute. Softly, she whistled three notes. The mare's head popped up.

"What did you think of that one, Tempest?"

The mare shook her mane impatiently, making her bridle jingle. _That you should get down before someone sees you. Or you fall and break your neck. _She seemed to say.

"You're very pessimistic."

The mare-Tempest- grunted in reply, and returned to her grazing. The younger horse, whose name was Cricket, looked up at Aspen instead.

_Is it nice up there?_

Aspen smiled at the young pony. "Very nice, Cricket, but I think you want to keep your feet on the ground."

The pony snorted, and he, too, returned to his grazing. Aspen smiled. This was one of the fine days before true fall- and winter- set in and confined her to her home. Which, this year, would be lonelier than ever-

She cut off that thought with a shake of her head. That was what she was supposed to be doing- gathering food for this winter. Not lounging about in the trees, practicing her flute. There would be plenty of time for that once the snow confined her to her little home and its grounds.

Focused on her task, Aspen allowed her gaze to roam over the forest. Wild apples were just coming into season, as were nuts, and if she could beat the squirrels to them, then this would be a comfortable winter. It wasn't easy to spot the particular trees that yielded fruit and nuts against the mosaic of trees, but years of practicing had honed her eye.

There- across the road. Two nut trees- a hazelnut and a large horse chestnut nestled together. Goal acquired, she appraised the route. She would have to make her way along the strong and large branches of the oak until she reached the spot where the younger, thinner branches of a rare evergreen tree intermingled with the oaks, and use that junction to cross the road, and reach the nut trees.

Scooping up her cloak, flute, and her gathering sack, Aspen began climbing up, and out along the oak limb. As she reached the pine, she carefully tested it with one foot, not trusting the brittle wood to hold her.

Cautiously, she made the crossing, placing both feet and her whole weight on the branch. It held.

For all of a minute.

The branch snapped beneath her, sending her in free fall toward the road.

Gilan had begun to tire by now, as he and Blaze made their way along the trail to Halt and Will's establishment. A few months after Will and Halt had been jointly assigned to Fief Redmont, the Baron had had the cabin expanded a bit- another small room had been built off the back of the main structure. A ranger and his apprentice might live comfortably in one of those cabins, but any more than that and living space became tight.

Will and Alyss were probably going to formalize things any day now, and in most marriages, children generally made an appearance. Will had also begun thinking about looking for an apprentice, which meant that the small cabin was going to be fuller than ever.

But, for now, Will remained in solitary residence. Which meant that Gilan would be repossessing the bedroom that had been his during his apprenticeship for the duration of his stay, instead of stretching out in front of the fireplace like he had on so many previous visits.

Gilan was thinking of this with ironic amusement when two things happened.

Blaze stopped dead. Gilan was instantly on alert. His horse would not have stopped to indicate something commonplace. He didn't reach for his longbow or sword- yet- but he strained his senses for any sound or movement.

A sharp crack sounded in the branches above his head. He reached for his longbow, but before he could do more than touch hand to wood, a girl of about fourteen dropped to the ground in front of him, landing with a thud and a wet crack that echoed the one a minute before.

**P.S.- This fic will updated about as much as my fic Windspeed will be- that is to say, irregularly and not often. I will attempt to finish it, so just keep checking back. Go to my profile and scroll down to 'story extras' to see pictures of Cricket and Tempest! Have fun and review,**

**Wings. **


	2. Chapter 2

Gilan was stunned- but Ranger training and years of combat experience kicked in quickly.

He dismounted to help the girl- if he was any judge of sound, she needed it- appraising her out of habit as he did so.

She was dressed in men's clothing that looked to have been cut down from much larger garments- clothes that looked inexpertly handsewn and had obviously seen much hard use, and her auburn hair hung with ragged edges around her shoulders. As he got closer, he could see that she wore an archer's wrist and arm guard, one not unlike what he himself wore, and had a belt around her waist that held two knives, in sheaths identical to his own.

Gilan stopped. The girl had a ranger's knives, wore the remnants of a ranger's cloak, and had a ranger style archery guard. Had she in some way killed a Ranger- or found a body and robbed the dead? Not likely, either one. But this defiantly was something to be concerned about.

The girl stirred, and moaned. Once again, Gilan began walking toward her. She was turned away from him- but she heard him coming. She whipped around, getting to her feet faster than he would have thought possible. Her left arm was bent at an unnatural angle, and her eyes held terror inside them.

"Hello," he said, trying to sound calm. He didn't know who or what this girl was, but he didn't want her to run off and get injured further. "What's your name?"

She looked at him for a minute, carefully considering, before replying.

"Aspen. My name is Aspen."

He smiled, trying to project calm. "Well, Aspen, I think your arm is broken."

She didn't reply, seemingly staring off into the trees at something, her eyes glazed and distant.

He tried again. "Aspen? I think you broke your arm as you fell. " Still she gave no reply, but the terror in her eyes was mounting.

He hastened to reassure her. "Aspen, it's alright. I know what to do- I'm a Ranger-"

Apparently, though, that was the wrong thing to say. Aspen recoiled like she had been burned.

"Ranger!" she cried, and ran off like a cornered animal. Curiosity piqued, Gillan attempted to follow her on Blaze, but by the time he mounted and headed after her, she had melted into the forest like she had never been- like only a Ranger could do.

For several minutes, he was puzzled- and unsure what to do. Should he follow his training and track the girl into the woods- or should he finish the ride to Halt's cottage and report the girl, asking for a search party to be sent?

After moment of thought, he decided on a mix of the two. He would track the girl if he could, as far as he could, and if he couldn't find her before the sun started to set, he would ride on to the cottage and report her, organizing a search in the morning.

It was most likely the girl was a runaway or a disobedient adolescent trying to punish her parents for something, he decided. And if she was and he couldn't find her, then she would either slink home in disgrace or spend the night out in the woods. If she was a runaway, and chose the latter, he couldn't help but feel that she deserved it.

Satisfied by this train of thought, he dismounted and began searching the forest for signs of her trail. Easily, he found footprints in the loose dirt and loam of the forest floor.

"Follow, Blaze," he said to his horse, turning back to make sure the chestnut understood. Blaze tossed her head in understanding and began to shadow her Ranger.

Swiftly, with ground covering strides, Gilan traced the girl's trail through the forest. It was easy for him- but then he was a trained Ranger. He supposed that someone of more average skill would find it harder to follow. He had to give her that- she obviously knew her way around these woods. Her trail, even in her flight, was concealed by hard-to-see shortcuts and went through ground that wouldn't leave much of a trace.

He followed her tracks to a small stream, and crossed to the other side. And, again, he was confounded. Because after her clear entering of the stream, it was if she had vanished. Her trail was so concealed it wasn't there. Again, up to the Ranger standard.

Shaking his head in both disbelief and confusion, Gilan crossed back over the stream and re-mounted Blaze. He sighed heavily.

Blaze turned her head to look at her Ranger and nickered. _What's wrong? _

"Nothing, Blaze." He said as he leaned over to pat his horse's neck.

The little horse snorted. _Sure. Whatever you want to believe._

"Well, if you're asking," Gilan said, the image of the girl's terror when he had told her his title replaying in his mind's eye, "I believe she's in trouble."

Blaze shook her mane impatiently. _Then what are we waiting for? Besides- I want dinner. _

"Greedy pig," Gilan said affectionately as Blaze wheeled without prompting and they began to trot for home.

Aspen raced through the woods, fear of the stranger and fear of discovery giving her normally quick feet wings. Her arm _hurt_, but she ignored it, focusing on outdistancing the stranger- the _Ranger_ until she reached the stream, where she could hide her tracks.

Once she was far enough in, she whistled for Tempest and Cricket. The mare's head popped up and she began trotting to her mistress. When Cricket lagged, the older mare nipped him to make sure he caught up.

They caught up with her after several minutes- and after running several hundred yards more, she called a halt to catch her breath and erase her tracks. Tears streamed down her face, both of pain and of emotion. She breathed heavily and irregularly, strange strangled half-sobs interspersed with pants for breath. Sobbing and panting, she quickly but efficiently, with practiced strokes, erased her tracks for several hundred feet into the forest.

Tempest, sensing her mistress's distress, nudged the girl in the back.

_Are you alright?_

Aspen lead the mare into a clump of bushes far from where she had erased the tracks. "No, Tempest." She said, wiping her eyes as she clumsily tried to mount the mare. She couldn't use her left arm, which was swelling rapidly, and screamed every time she tried to put weight on it. Tempest, well trained and well-mannered as she was, stood stock still for the girl to mount with a minimum of pain.

"I'm not alright."

And, for once, her horse didn't make a snappy comment.

It took over an hour for her to reach her little home in the woods- her usual route was faster, but mostly because it allowed her to gallop through the trees, jumping the numerous obstacles along the path. But with her arm, she could barely control the reins and ride at Tempest's smoothest trot without wanting to scream with pain, let alone stick a jump at a breakneck pace.

It was a relief to finally see the ramshackle buildings through the foliage, highlighted by the slowly setting sun. They- _she-_ didn't have much, and all of it looked like it was going to collapse at any moment, but it was her home.

The small collection of buildings were the only remains of an abandoned farm. She didn't know why someone would build a farm out here- but this was where Samuel had sheltered his rescues, and where he had raised the foundling left to him. It seemed natural to her- so she'd never asked.

There was a small barn, probably originally intended for a pair of cows and a pony or horse, that leaned heavily to one side, surrounded by pasture outlined by a tumbling fence in bad need of repair. There was a smaller paddock with a lean-to and a fence in similar condition. A small- tiny, really- farmer's cottage sat square and sagging in the center of the property, complete with porch, vegetable garden, and storage shed. An ageless looking well brooded near the house, and a small pond glimmered off to one side.

Normally, the view made her smile, just a little bit, but today, she was to focus on pain and emotion to enjoy the view. Carefully, she tapped Tempest with her heels to get her moving, and let the black mare pick her own way down the embankment.

Down below, from the larger pasture, a horse whinnied. Tempest and Cricket both answered with snorts and whinnies of their own, and the larger mare picked up her pace a bit, eager to reach her stall, and the oats and hay there.

The mare slid to a stop in front of the smaller paddock without Aspen's prompting and stood still again to allow the girl to slid off.

Aspen did so, cradling her injured arm in a vain attempt to protect it from jostling. Tempest turned her head around and looked at her, impatience plain in her gaze, mixed with sympathy.

"Yes, I know. Into the barn with you."

The mare trotted into the barn with the air of a miffed princess. However, a wink at Aspen let her know that Tempest was playing with her. With a small smile of amusement, Aspen followed the mare into the shadowy barn.

After a lot of swearing and pain, Aspen managed to get the horse's tack off, and in some semblance of order. She let them off into the pasture, and set out hay and grain for the horse's dinner.

Eventually, she staggered into the cabin, which was lit inside with the glorious rays of the setting sun. Aspen shut the door behind her. Despite the fact that she lived rough in the middle of the woods, the interior of the cabin was furnished surprisingly comfortably.

A rug made from a bear pelt laid on the floor near the fireplace, around which were a few crudely repaired chairs, a rough table, and some inexpertly sewn pillows, one large enough to serve as a sleeping pallet. The fireplace also functioned as a cookstove- old fashioned iron spits were set into the mortar. Candle stubs of varying length littered every surface, and one corner, the one best protected from the elements, served as a pantry, full up with preserved and long lasting foods, ready for winter.

A small doorway, curtained by a patchwork of furs, lead to the one and only bedroom.

Aspen ducked through the curtain into the bedroom. The bedroom was just as simply and roughly furnished as the main room- crudely repaired bed with rough sewn pallet, mess of blankets and furs for bedcoverings, and a couple of chests for clothes and supplies. Two items, though, stood out. One was a finely carved chest shoved off in one corner- the other was a board shelf filled with books.

"I know it's around here somewhere," Aspen muttered to herself as she scanned the row of books with one finger. "There!" her finger alighted on a thick and tattered cloth-bound volume titled –"Healer's Manuel." She pulled it off the shelf with one hand and took it back into the main room, setting it down on the table.

Flipping pages, she came to the one she wanted. Grimacing, she got up to collect the supplies she needed. Cloth bandages, something to serve as a sling, and a straight, flat stick.

Biting her lip fiercely against the pain, she felt down the lower portion of her arm. Thank all the gods there might be that it was her left, non-dominant arm that was broken, and that it was the lower portion. There- there was the break.

Gritting her teeth, she braced herself against the pain- and shoved. The bones gritted together, grinding back into place, as Aspen screamed and screamed into the coming night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay the big long story in the middle is intended to provide a timeline of Aspen's story relative to Will's. But, in case it's not clear, I'll elaborate.**

**Aspen was born about a year before the Kalkara were released, making Will a little less than fourteen years her senior. When Will first went to the Gathering, Aspen had her first birthday. **

**She was two at the time of the Burning Bridge, and she saw the whole battle. (And it left some serious subconcious scars, let me tell you.)**

**She is fourteen, almost fifteen at this time- Will is about twenty eight, twenty nine. He's still young, but he's a well seasoned Ranger with about eight year's experince. This takes place about three to four years after the books. **

**Enjoy Aspen's turbulent backstory and review, please!**

The sun was setting as Gilan rode, sending shafts of golden light down through the trees and making long shadows of the overhanging branches. The Ranger, though, deep in thought, hardly noticed. Lost in his thoughts, he left it for Blaze to negotiate the rest of the way to Will's cabin.

Blaze didn't mind. It wasn't hard- the Ranger mare had traveled this path so many times she probably knew the way by heart.

But she did wonder why her Ranger, normally so cheerful, was so quiet. Perhaps it had something to do with the young human filly they had come across. She snorted is derision.

Humans! They were so limited. Any self respecting Ranger horse could have told them much more about the girl than they could figure out themselves.

She was just about a year beyond the last stages of girlhood, she had several horses, one of which was of Blaze's own breed, she lived in the forest, and she was alone.

It was the last that Blaze sympathiezed with the most. Horses were social animals, and so were humans. The very thought of running alone, without a herd or Gilan beside her, scared Blaze witless.

To do so as a filly- she snorted again. Foolish. Once again, Blaze reflected on the folly of humans. Any self-respecting horse would have long since found a herd to join and asked for acceptance into it. A herd meant safety and shelter. Running lone meant danger and uncertainty.

Blaze felt Gilan shift on her back and she flicked her ears back at him.

The Ranger sighed and patted her neck. "Who do you think our Aspen is, Blaze? Something of a mystery, don't you think?"

Blaze sighed heavily. Humans!

Gilan was at something of a loss. He gave Blaze the reins as he let his thougts take over his attention. They swirled around and around like a whirlpool in his head.

_Who is she? Why- why is she there in the woods? And why does she have a Ranger's knives?_

His intitial assertion that the girl was a runaway had faded with the light as he had rode on. No runaway or truant, however skilled in woodcraft, should have been able to conceal her path that well.

He nudged Blaze to ask for a slightly faster walk. The mare, apparently had other ideas. She snorted in an exasperated sort of way, and broke into a smart canter.

Gilan was suprised for a moment, and almost tugged at the reins to slow her, but thought better of it and let his hands relax. If Blaze wanted to canter, she could. They had no particular need to walk, after all.

Will sat outside on the verandah, next to Halt. Both of them were enjoying the pleasant evening as they waited for Gilan to arrive. This was one of the last warm days of Autumn, and there was no real point in waiting inside when winter was just around the corner, ready to drive them indoors.

Tug and Abelard dozed contentedly in the paddock, basking in the warm beams of sunset. Suddenly, both horse's heads popped up, ears swiveling toward the path.

"Gilan's here," Will observed, noticing the horse's reactions. "I'll go make another cup of coffee." He stood, gathering up his own empty mug.

Halt nodded to his old apprentice. "I think he'll need it. He's coming up the path rather fast for the last leg of a causal trip."

Will, a little suprised, strained his ears, and heard the particular pattern of hoofbeats. Blaze was coming up the road at a canter- a relaxed canter.

"You sure?" He asked. "Blaze could just be having fun."

Halt shook his head. "I don't think so. Something's happened. Not catastrophic, but-" He shook his head again, and gestured for Will to continue with getting the coffee.

Will grinned. "Well, good. Been getting a bit quiet around here."

Halt arched an eyebrow at him as he sipped from his own, still half-full mug of coffee. "Wait until you find your apprentice. We'll see how quiet you think things are then."

Will smiled ruefully, and went inside. When he emerged again, coffee supplies in hand, Gilan was just dismounting, and he and Halt were exchanging greetings.

Will set the coffee things- jar of honey, two mugs, and a full pot of the Ranger's favorite drink- all down on the table before he went to greet his friend.

As he walked down the steps, he noticed that Blaze, instead of paitiently waiting to be untacked, was exchanging horsey conversation with Tug in a rather forcible manner.

When she finished, she walked deliberetly back over to Gilan. Will arched an eyebrow at Tug.

"What's with Blaze?"

Tug gave Will a bemused look. _Humans, apparently. _

For the fourth time in as many minutes, Aspen cursed her arm was swelling, and she'd had to loosen the bandage a bit to get it to abate. Her broken arm _hurt_, and she had to be careful with the amount of poppy she used to dull the pain. It was running out, and she could also easily overdose on it- particularly her homemade stuff. So she had a mug of willowbark tea, in the hopes that the mild to ineffective remedy would work this time.

But besides the immediate issues her injury presented, there was the issue of what it meant for her long term survival. Aspen didn't live out here for the fun of it. Surviving in the woods, even with occasional trading for essential supplies she couldn't make or find, was hard. It had been easier before, when she wasn't alone- Aspen shook her head to cut off that thought. The memory was still to raw, to painful.

Everything had to be gathered, hunted, and prepared by hand. Fall was her gathering season- when she built up her stores in preperation for the long winter when the forest would be bare of all edibles but tree bark, evergreen needles for tea, and small game. A broken arm would severly curtail her stores- and she would miss most of the prime of fall's crop.

She couldn't shoot a bow with one hand, nor dress game, nor climb or pick wild apples and nuts.

Looking for a way around her predicament, Aspen's gaze swept the room as she sipped from a mug of willowbark tea. Her eyes alighted on a moderatly sized stockpile of furs in a dark corner.

_I suppose I could trade some of those furs for supplies- but then that would draw notice. _

A small girl marching into the village with a pony loaded with furs would draw notice, at the very best- suspiscion and an investigation into her 'whereabouts' at best. No, that was not the way to go. Ian had taught her to avoid notice at if all possible. Ian would have known a way out of this.

Aspen set her mug down, tears coming to her eyes and blurring her vision. Daren wasn't here anymore- he was gone. He had died last winter of a fever that had come on out of nowhere and carried him off just as quickly. This spring had been almost to painful to bear- discovering the woods anew without him.

Aspen's greif swamped her like a wave. Tears poured down her face, a weakness she rarely allowed herself anymore. Ian had been her guardian, her mentor, her teacher, her freind- and the closest thing she'd had to a father.

Aspen's story- and by extension her mother's- was a long and tangled one. Until the winter past- just before Daren died- she had learned the whole of it.

At first, she had only known the story of how she, her mother, and the black mare she'd named Tempest had come here. They had been wanderers, caught without a scrap of shelter or proper clothing in a blizzard. Ian, during a lull in the storm, had been out searching for travellers caught unawares and lost in the haze of white.

And he'd stumbled upon them. His furry little horse, ironically named Frost, for the pattern of his coat, had lead him to them, he said. But, coming upon a woman, a child, and their two mounts slowly freezing to death in the snow, he'd taken them home to recover.

Aspen could dimly remember this part. Both her mother and Ian had told her she'd been comatose, but she could fuzzily recall some things. She remembered the impression that the world had gone white; and the feeling that the cold was sucking her down- and the numbness that accompanied her slide into semi-consciousness. And she could remember waking up here- warm blankets and painful fingers-the dim, warm gold glow of the fire. And she remebered waking up to a grizzled, gray man checking over her- and the comforting words he had said to her.

That man had been Ian- and after Aspen had recovered, he'd offered to lead them to Redmont, where they could shelter over the winter, in exchange for basic labor at the castle. But he mother had said somthing to him- and he had let them stay.

Eventually, her mother, Elaenia, died from a sickness in the late fall, just before Harvestide. And she came to know that Ian was a former Ranger. She didn't ask his story- one of the lessons she had learned from an early age was to not pry. But he taught her his skills- and learned from such an early age, the skills of unseen and unheard movement, of concealment, of stealth- the skills of a Ranger- became ingrained and instinctual, highly developed talents.

That was all Aspen had known- her whole knowlege of her origins. She hadn't minded the mystery mainly- living on two hands' work in the woods left little time for idle thought. But she had wondered, when she had time-

And then she learned the whole story- what Elaenia had told Ranger Ian, and the story of Ian's own past. The truth had shocked her to her core.

_Elaenia had been a young girl when Morgarath rebelled against the newly appointed king. She had been a daughter of the Former Lord of Gorlan- and Morgarath's sister and only sibling. She had been old enough to notice the war around her- and to young to understand it. Morgarath was still her idolized older brother and protector._

_So she went with him when he was driven into exile- and exchanged thriving Gorlan for the desolate Mountains of Rain and Night. Another person went with them into exile- a fifteen year old follower of Morgarath's who he named his sister's betrothed. _

_The two children who followed Morgrath into exile remained unmarried until Elaenia came of age. The who purpose of their arranged marriage was to produce heirs for their Lord._

_Morgarath himself couldn't have children, and refused to allow the throne to pass from his bloodline once he had taken it. Finally, as he began plotting and mobilizing his troops, he married the two. Elaenia was thirteen when he brought her to the caverns- her fiancé was fifteen. The couple finally married at twenty five and twenty seven. _

_After the marriage, Elaenia struggled to conceive in order to please her brother- an endeavor that was hardly aided by her husband's frequent absences due to his position as Morgarath's second in command. Finally, two years after she was married, as Morgarath began to practice with the Kalkara, she found she was pregnant. Nine months later Morgarath unleashed his greatest weapon- and Elaenia went into labor. The child born was a girl, who Elaenia named Aspen in memory of the forests of Gorlan, the home she could barely remember._

_Morgarath was disappointed- he had wanted a boy to inherit the kingdom he hoped to acheive- but, ever the plotter and opportunist, saw a way to make sure that this did not interfere with his larger plan. If Elaenia produced no more children, as was likely, he would simply choose a suitor for her daughter, marry them off as soon as possible, and make their firstborn son his heir. Satisfied that his legacy would endure, he turned his attention to the war. A year passed- and Morgarath made plans for his invasion of Araluen._

_Aspen grew into a toddler- and as she approached her second birthday, Morgarath finalized his bridge. But shortly before the invasion began, Elaenia's husband was killed in an accident testing the bridge with a company of Wargels. Now, Elaenia, numb from shock, still was able to make plans- she finally began to seriously plan escape. _

_Elaenia had loved her brother once- but no more. The boy who had cared for her at Castle Gorlan was gone- and her husband was gone. All that bound her to this place and the monster her brother had become was gone- and she was determined not to let her brother mold her daughter into his obedient broodmare and unquestioningly loyal servant. The night she planned to leave was the night of the invasion- the night her whereabouts would not be questioned. _

_As the army mustered out, Elaenia gathered up her most precious belongings- the few gowns and belongings she had left from Gorlan. She saddled her mare and the haltered two year old filly her husband had gifted to their daughter at her birth- the offspring of her mare and his warhorse. Dressing in plain clothes, she stole her daughter from her nursery._

_As the invasion force mustered out, Elaenia rode away into the night. She reached the bridge- and saw the death of her brother. As the mighty construction burned, Elaenia, with her daughter and the last of her memories of happiness, galloped away across the border and into Araluen, the flames lighting her way._

_She wandered for weeks, looking for a quiet and isolated place to settle. A place where she would be asked for no payment, would be asked no questions, and where no explanations and cross-examinations would be required of her. She looked throughout the uninhabited forests- so intent on her goal that the first storm of winter caught her by surprise. They were freezing to death in the forest of Fief Redmont when Ian found them. _

_They recovered with him- and Elaenia stayed until her death, leaving Aspen in Ian's care._

_Ian's own story was much simpler. He had been the Ranger of Gorlan- and, ashamed of his inability to see Morgarath's plot to seize control, had faded into the forest, persumed dead. _

_When he found Elaenia and Aspen in the forest, he recognized the former Lady of Gorlan- and allowed her to stay after she recovered. When she died, rather than turn the girl over to the Ward, with her history- and family- he let her stay. He feared that the Ward would mean the mockery and suspicion of the castlefolk for the girl he had grown fond of. _

_So he raised her, and when Aspen showed an aptitude and a curiosity for the arts of a Ranger, he taught her. He felt keenly the loss of the Apprentice he had never had- and she filled the gaps within him. The winter she turned fourteen, he died. _

Aspen had not been sure what to think when she had heard this story. But, as she came to terms with it, she was sure that her past origins were better off a mystery.

She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and sniffed to stop the flow of tears. Aspen drained the last of her tea and set the mug aside with the rest of the dirty dishes. The sun was sinking rapidly beyond the horizon, and that meant bed for her.

Tommorow, she would have to gather what stores she could- and look for some of the medicinal herbs that would help her arm heal faster. Such plants, when properly prepared and taken, could take off as much as a week from the healing time.

Quickly, she made a list on a scrap of birchbark- it worked just as well as paper, and was much easier to obtain.

_Comfrey_

_Horsetail_

_Arnica_

Arnica might not be flowering now, but if she could find it, that would be best. All of the herbs worked, but Arnica helped reduce pain and inflammation as well as heal the break.

Yawning, Aspen laid aside her pen, and slipped on her shift. It was, again, hard to do one handed.

But, as soon as the job was done, she laid down on her small pallet. The horses were fine being out all night- Wren would protect them.

Wren was Aspen's dog- The unlikely offspring of a female wolf and a one of the farmer's dogs. She hadn't been there when Aspen arrived- but that was fine. In keeping with her wild heritage, Wren tended to roam during the day- and returned to the cottage at night, to protect Aspen and the horses. Oh, well. At least they were all safe- and Aspen never needed to provide Wren with food.

As she finished that thought, Wren's welcoming howl split the night air. Aspen smiled, and, despite her arm, which hung off the pallet at an uncomfortable angle, was soon fast asleep.

The fact that a Ranger- the one thing Ian had warned her could locate her cottage by circumstances other than chance- had seen her did not matter to her. She was safe, she was hidden, and she was secure. Tommorow would make the Ranger a phantom of the past- and it would bring a new day.

Little did she know of the plans being laid for the morning in a cabin less than two miles to the east.


	4. Chapter 4

Will set the steaming dish of beef stew on the table and sat down, helping himself to dinner. His fellow Rangers also dug in, and for a few minutes, conversation was forsaken for the demands of hunger.

However, after all three had taken the edge off, conversation resumed.

"So," Halt began conversationally. "What happened on the road that warranted running to get here an hour early?"

Gilan sighed. "Not really sure what to make of it. You wouldn't happen to know if any children or apprentices have gone missing around here, would you?"

Halt arched an eyebrow at Will, who did much of the scouting around the outlying farms. Will frowned thoughtfully. "Not that I've heard about- but it's been a couple of days since I made a complete circut. I assume this is relevant?"

Gilan nodded. "It could be. Because, well- I found a girl out in the forest today."

Halt raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I'm sure that's very unusual. Especially since you didn't bring her back with you."

Gilan shrugged. Will, concentrating on him, felt Ebony nudge him for scraps, and absentmindedly handed her a few peices of beef.

"I couldn't. She just- dissappeared."

Now it was Will's turn to be doubtful. "A dissappearing girl, huh?"

"Here, I'll tell you."

"That would be appreciated," Halt said, in a neutral tone of voice that somehow managed to contain several layers of sarcasm.

Gilan glared at his former mentor before beginning.

"Well, I was riding along the path, and everything was normal. I heard a flute- Blaze heard it too. And then, about five minutes after that, this girl fell out of a tree overhanging the road, right in front of me. I'm pretty sure she broke her arm when she fell- and I tried to help her. She told me her name was Aspen, and she looked terrified, so I tried to calm her down. But as soon as I told her I was a Ranger, she took off for the trees like I was a Wargel or something."

Will chuckled. "Well done, Gilan! Half the kingdom thinks we're evil sorcerers, what's one more?"

Gilan turned his glare from Halt to Will. "May I finish?"

"Sorry. Go ahead."

"Well, anyway, I tried to follow her to wherever she ran off to, and for a while her trail was as plain as day- but then it just _vanished_."

Will, who had just taken a drink, spewed water across the table in suprise. "What?!" he choked out in between coughs.

Gilan shook his head in equal puzzlement. "No, really. I couldn't find the trail- it was as well concealed as any of ours. And, what's more, she-" he glanced around, as if looking for eavsedroppers. "She had a set of our knives on her belt- and she was wearing the remnants of one of our cloaks."

Even Halt's eyebrows shot up in suprise at that.

"That's not exactly illegal-" Will started to say.

"But it's important. Something's not right here- and the Baron needs to hear about this." Halt said over him. Gilan shrugged. "Be my guest. You're the one who lives at the castle, after all."

Will groaned mock-theatrically. "Please tell me we're not having a search party at the break of dawn."

Gilan grinned. "You're getting soft, Will. You aren't up already by then? Shame on you."

Will sighed and applied himself to the rest of his stew.

* * *

The dawn was just starting to pink the horizon as Will finished saddling Tug. The little horse looked at him reproachfully.

"Don't blame me," Will said. "This one is all Halt and Gilan's fault. I had nothing to do with them mentioning this mystery girl to the Baron."

The little horse snorted in disgust. _I just got breakfast. _The little horse said plaintatively.

"Well, so did I, just like the rest of us, so don't complain." Will replied, slipping the bridle onto his horse's head. Outside, Gilan and Halt were finalizing preperations. The Baron had been concerned, and agreed to a search party- but he'd requested that the Rangers precede it, on the chance they'd find anything that could be useful to the party.

And the Rangers had agreed, meaning that today, they were up before dawn instead of at it. Will sighed and swung into the saddle. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Aspen woke a little after sunup. The light filtering in through the cracks in the wall hit her in the eyes- and if that wasn't enough, she felt stiff, sore, and once again, her arm was screaming at her. Obviously, it had gotten cold last night.

Groaning, she pushed aside the blankets that covered her, and shivered in the cool air. She spared a smile for the dog that yawned beside the pallet, waking up with her.

Grateful for the furs that carpeted the cold wooden floor, Aspen went over to the fireplace to re-kindle the coals she had clumsily banked one-handed last night. Grabbing the ironwood poker, Aspen knelt by the hearth, shivering a little as the cold from the stones shot through the thin, worn material of her shift.

Quickly, with the ease of the practiced, she found a live coal, and with her tinder box, managed to get a small cooking fire going within several minutes. Using the poker, she levered herself up, wincing at the protest of her stiff joints and cold-sore muscles.

Aspen set the poker aside in its place, and slowly walked into the kitchen, Wolf trotting beside her, to begin preparing breakfast. Carefully, she measured a handful of oats into a copper pot, adding some water from the still half-full barrel, and a bit of salt to season the bland mixture. After making sure the ingredients were thoroughly blended, she set the pot onto the spit over the fire to cook.

A few minutes later, a blackened kettle filled with water and willowbark joined the pot of cooking porridge on the spit.

Breakfast preparations done with, Aspen vanished into the bedroom to dress for the day. Her normal attire was out of the question- she could hardly manage the lacings of her normal vest one-handed. Searching through her few clothes, she found what she was looking for.

The dress was loose-fitting, made of good quality lightweight wool. The skirt was small and skimmed the body, lessening the chances of it being caught on something, and came up to the more close-fitting bodice with a cleverly constructed waist that could be tightened or loosened through concealed ties. The fuller sleeves also fitted snugly at the wrist with similar ties at the cuffs.

Aspen managed to squirm into the dress after removing her shift, and stuff her broken arm down the sleeve with only a few pain surges. Under, she slipped on leggings and her boots. Dressing done, and ready to greet the day, she went out into the main room once more.

Breakfast was ready.

* * *

The sun shone through the forest as the three Rangers trotted along the path, carefully seeking the place where Gilan had first seen the girl. It was a pleasant morning, only slightly marred by their mission today.

Certain things about the plan in particular sat uneasily on Will. Apparently, last night, when Gilan and Halt had consulted with the Baron regarding the girl, a healer had also been brought in- to be on notice to evaluate the girl.

Wild children were not unheard of- children abandoned or lost for months in the forest before they were rescued- and when such children were found, many of them were in poor shape; many of them fought their rescuers out of terror.

And judging by Gilan's testimony this girl was likely such a child. So, in Halt's saddlebag, carefully padded, was a tiny glass vial of some drug the Healer had promised would knock the girl out long enough to get her to safety, if she inhaled it.

Will hated that idea. It smacked a little to much of the Genovisian's methods to him. But deasperate times-


End file.
